


Under The Midnight Sun

by handlewithkara



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handlewithkara/pseuds/handlewithkara
Summary: Kara takes Mon-El to the beach, but things will never again be like they used to be.The angsty post season 3 sort of sequel to One The Beach.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	Under The Midnight Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [On the beach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10542096) by [handlewithkara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handlewithkara/pseuds/handlewithkara). 



> English is not my first language and I don't have a beta reader :(

She glanced over at him, the way he stood, the glint of his teeth. How he talked so casually to Brainy and Nia. Like it was normal. Like him being here was normal.

Kara walked over and grabbed him by the arm. “You, come with me.”

*~*~*

They flew side by side. Sometimes that still made her jerk out of her flow. The first time they had flown together, it had been shy, tentative. Even sweet. She had liked the way it felt. But like this, so matter of fact? It was strangely unnerving. Like she kept checking on him and being surprised that he was there.

It was different with Clark. Even though the shifts of time and space had caused Kal-El to end up as the older one, Kara’s protective older cousin instincts still kicked in around him and so her mind kept track of him like one would keep track of a wandering toddler.

But to have Mon-El here, as a partner? As an equal? It still threw her. Kara gritted her teeth and flew faster, daring him to catch up. They passed the harbor, out towards the open sea. Below the moon’s reflection glinted on the dark waves.

 _Faster_ , she thought, _faster_. She made a hard swerve and he followed suit, like a ghost following her trail.

*~*~*

Kara stabbed her fingers into the sand. “I’m not going to forgive you,” she realized. And that realization hurt. “You hurt me and I’m never going to forgive you.”

“I hate hating you.” No. That wasn’t quite right. “I hate not loving you.” _Not being allowed to love you._ It had felt good to love him. It had made her happy.

She jumped up and, ignoring the surprise in his eyes, stripped her uniform off over her head, throwing it down into the sand. Within the blink of an eye, she sped towards the shoreline. The water was cool angst her skin as she walked into it, clad in just her underwear. Kara kept wading and wading till the sea was up to her thighs.

She stood there with balled fists and stared out into the darkness. “I thought we would have more time.” _I wanted to fuck you, you know?_ she thought. Here on the beach. Really fuck. With no witnesses to see us, other than the sand and the sea.

I saw it when I flew by and I remembered it. I remembered it because I wanted to take you here. So we could fuck. So we could make love. Like we used to when we were together. Make love till my legs trembled and I couldn’t breathe and I felt like I could never stop. Just like that, only with more water and sand.

Tears burned in her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

A violent jolt went through her as a tentative hand touched her shoulder. _Don’t burn me. Please, stop burning me._

“I still love you. Always will. If that makes any difference.”

Kara balled her fists. “No, it doesn’t.” She jerked around. “Or what, are you going to fight for me?”

He looked down and shook his head. “No. I won’t.”

The tears burned more brightly. “You’re a coward.”

His shoulder’s slumped. “I don’t deserve you. Never have.”

“That wasn’t…. That isn’t….” Kara struggled for words. “You ruined it.” We were happy. We loved each other. We were going to fuck on the beach. And you ruined it all. As quickly as her anger flared up, her guilt followed.

He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t ask to leave. He didn’t choose to leave. His parents died. _You sent him away._ It was a freak accident. He didn’t want to leave. He was dying. Her mind reminded her. Yet underneath, the anger bubbled. That anger that had nowhere to go, because if she was honest, maybe it wasn’t his fault. Maybe this was normal. That’s just how things happened. Maybe that was just how people were.

And she just had to live with it. Or rather: without it. Without taking the man she loved to the adorable secluded beach she had discovered. And kissing him. And charming him. And making him laugh. And seducing him. And making love.

It hurt. It hurt all over.

Kara bit her lip and smashed her fist down on the watery surface, sending droplets shooting up high. She hated that she felt this way. She hated that she felt like a girl made from stone. Knowing that it would probably take a fighter jet to the chest for her, for her body to feel the same thing her soul was feeling. That’s what she wanted. That’s what she wanted to feel like.

She closed her eyes. The temptation was out there looming, tempting. She had done it before, had edged close to it. When she used her superhearing, it was kind of like that. She had to listen inside of herself, adjusting her senses. Making them attuned to the more fine-grained wavelengths, have them react to every stimulus. If she just went further, deeper enough, deeper into herself, she could do that, make every cell precious and reactive, open her nerves, her brain to analyze every received interaction without a filter. To suddenly have every time the water lapped against her skin be like being hit by a freight train as molecules bashed against molecules, this time each interaction dutifully cataloged rather than being discarded as non-essential.

“Stop it, Kara, stop.”

Mon-El’s worried voice tore her out of the state she was slipping into. His eyes were wide and looming.

“Please don’t do that, you’re scaring me.”

“Why do you care,” she barked at him roughly. “Leave me be. This is my thing. You have no right to stop me.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. We did our best.”

“Just stop! Stop… being this way.” So defeatist. _So broken._

“I’m s….”

“Stop that too.”

*~*~*

She brushed past him and stomped back towards the shore, the dark waters splaying around her legs, too weak to impede her progress. Her wet toes curled into the sand.

_Stupid, dumb beach. Stupid dumb heart._

Again he tried to touch her shoulder. Kara whirled around threw him into the sand. Anger burned through her. She straddled him and fixed his hand over his head. “I’m going to fuck you,” she threatened.

His eyes. Clear. Wide. Honest. “Please, don’t.”

Kara shirked away from his body. “Don’t tell me that you are indifferent to this. That you don’t want this anymore.”

Mon-El sat up and looked away. “I do, but …”

“You don’t deserve it.” Kara finished his sentence, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The expression on his face hardened.

“I don’t,” he said flatly.

There it was. The hurt. Right below the surface. Deep down, she had always suspected that it would be there. There had been hints of it. Always. Kara could tell that she wouldn’t have to push hard for it to come out. They had both been holding back. After all, what good would it do? When they had to fight Reign. When it wouldn’t change a thing. She had always known that if she saw his pain, it would be bad. Really bad.

After all, it was something she clung to, the thought that he was happy now. With his wife, with his new superhero friends, with his new life. That she had to kill those feelings inside of herself and learn how to be happy, too. To be happy for him and for herself. Yes, once upon a time he had been hurting as well. But obviously, he got over it. If Mon-El could get over it, obviously so could she. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if she pushed him, pushed him to go back to when he had felt that way. What for? For her vanity? Just so she could revel in the fact that he was hurting too? No, she couldn’t do that.

She was Supergirl. She had a threat to take care of. She could not revel. Couldn’t do anything that would distract her from the task at hand. To get over it. Just like he had. (He had, hadn’t he?) Kara had hated that sickening feeling. Of not having the time. Of feeling like she couldn’t talk about it. Not really. Not the real questions. Not without feeling like a cheater, like she was doing injury to that woman Imra, just by asking.

Now at least that was gone. Now they were freer. Now she could take him here, to an isolated beach, to talk, to yell, to argue, without constantly fearing that any gaze could be too intimate, that any word could be stepping over that line, on every touch that maybe it was wrong, that it could bloom into something that meant more. They’d both been struggling. So hard. They had tried to find something to grasp and hold onto, something they liked about each other, but that was safe. That wouldn’t step over the line. Working together. Companionship. The first few shy and tentative steps of friendship. That was okay, wasn’t it?

Instinctively Kara reached for her cape, to draw around her body, only to remember she wasn’t wearing it.

Things might be different now, but there were still the questions she was scared about. Because she _knew_ him. Because she dreaded the answer. Before she had thought the most soul-crushing answer would be the hear him say that he was happy, truly happy and in love and he couldn’t help her. Now she knew, no, the much worse answer was just the opposite.

_How did you get over it?_

_I never did._

_When does it stop?_

_It doesn’t._

It just wasn’t fair. They had loved each other once. And now they couldn’t anymore.

_You ruined it._

Kara remembered how it had felt to see him again. To touch his face. The joy and worry that flooded through her every cell. The supreme jubilation to get to see and hear and smell and touch him again. How her everything had hungered for that touch. How sure she had been that she would never feel complete without it again.

And now she was here, staring down at this man in his ocean soaked uniform, with his wide, sad eyes and tousled hair. She ran her thumb over his lower lip, experimentally. It made her wonder what it would feel like to kiss him again. To kiss _Mon-El_ again. Kara had a suspicion. That it wouldn’t feel good anymore. That it would be bitter. And burning. Like ash and fire and regret. Still, she couldn’t quite tear her eyes away, from the way his lips looked, in the dark.

“Don’t do it, Kara,” he whispered.

“Why not?” she said, more sharply than she had intended.

Mon-El took hold of her hand and led it away from his face. “It’s not gonna make you happy.”

Tears of anger burned in her eyes. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I know you,” he said quietly and it stung. Because even after all that time that had passed, it _felt_ true.

“Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me you don’t feel like I do.”

Unfiltered pain danced across Mon-El’s features. “Of course I do. But it’s not gonna change anything.”

“Well, I’m not happy now either. Maybe it will be worth it,” she insisted stubbornly.

Again, so much sadness in his eyes, threatening to cut through her heart. “It won’t for you. You’ll feel guilty afterwards. You’ll hate yourself for it.”

Now her tears were sliding down her cheeks in earnest. “How is that different from how I feel now?”

*~*~*

They sat quietly, side by side, staring out towards the dark ocean. Alone with the crashing of the waves as they licked at the shore. She had picked up her cape again and now clung it, like a child wrapped in a protective blanket.

“Do you hate yourself?”

Mon-El snorted. “Always.”

“What for?”

Kara felt him shift next to her. He stared up into the night sky. “Right now?” He frowned. “That I don’t hate this.”

Kara laughed out roughly. To her surprise, it almost didn’t sound hysterical at all. “You and I, we are never going to be just friends, are we?” she asked.

Absentmindedly he traced the shape of her index finger with his. “Probably not,” he admitted.

There it was again. The desire to kiss him. Just a little bit. Ash and fire. Fire and ash. Right? _Out here, with just you, I don't have to pretend. I can just be me._

Her heart raced.

“How on earth are we going to do this? How can we possibly …”

“I don’t know,” he admitted and their eyes met and it scared her how much he also looked like he was drowning. “I don’t know.”


End file.
